Dreary Night
by Tazmy
Summary: Sheppard and team race to save Rodney's life on a Halloween world. COMPLETE!
1. Two halloweens

Title: Dreary Night

Author: Tazmy

Spoilers: Anything is fair game up until mid-third season finale.

It's a WIP, but I have a good portion written and I hope to be done writing it by Halloween.

Written for the Halloween challenge. Big thanks and hugs to Layla, Kodiak Bear, Angw and skypig21 for betas, edits, and encouragement.

Part One

Even as a child Rodney despised Halloween. Everything about the holiday made him want to crawl into his room, turn off the lights, and barricade the door. Not that he ever had that option. No, among other things, Rodney was expected to take his little—read 'bratty'—sister trick-or-treating. As if that and the biting cold weren't deterrent enough, he was always forced to dress up in some ridiculous costume that his insane mother concocted—guaranteed to itch and otherwise humiliate. No doubt about it, Halloween sucked.

"Move it, Jeannie!" He grabbed for her left arm, pulling with just enough force to thrust her forward but not knock her over.

"Quit it, Mer. I'm walking as fast as I can."

"Well, it's obviously not fast enough. If we don't make it home by nine, mom's going to be pissed."

Their breaths hung in the air, as though suspended in place by the frost. Rodney watched the trees, distorted and frightening in the moonlight, with wide, cautious eyes. He was a genius so he knew they really were nothing but trees, but they loomed over his head as though they were monsters coming in for the kill.

Behind him, Jeannie continued her struggle to move forward and still keep her horde of candy. She lost the fight eventually, her left foot slipping on the ice. She fell with a soft scream, her candy clattering on the street below.

"Stop fooling around, Jeannie. We don't have time for this."

"You are the worst brother ever!" Jeannie swept her blonde curls behind her face, taking her brother's offered hand as leverage. Blood trickled from her left knee, but she ignored it while coming to her feet. "Would it kill you to enjoy yourself for just one Halloween, Mer?"

"I don't like being out here, that's all. Can we go home now, please?" He wasn't beyond begging. His hands were beginning to burn in the cold, and he had read enough about frostbite to think it might be happening to him. He leaned over, helping Jeannie salvage what candy could be saved, clumsily mixing them within his own pot.

"Hey, you can't…"

"We'll share when we get home. Now come on!"

They arrived at the house a few minutes later only to hear the sound of screams and clattering dishes. Rodney's hand hesitated on the doorknob. If he concentrated on not listening, he could almost avoid hearing what they were yelling.

"Please, Mer," Jeannie turned to him, biting her lip softly, "don't make me go in. Please."

It was getting dark and there were fewer people on the street than Rodney would have liked. They really should stay where it was safe and warm, but the loud shouts were frightening. This wasn't the first time he had come home to find such a scene, and he had learned long ago that the best place to be was far away. So he nodded softly, patting his hand on her shoulders, "C'mon."

As the breeze picked up, the clouds came faster, covering the full moon on their journey. There weren't many street lamps in this area so it was hard to see. Rodney huddled into his vampire cape, thankful that his mom had taken into account the Canadian weather by fashioning his cape from a heavy cloak. His heart beat rapidly. He surveyed the streets for signs of other people. Still, he kept moving away from his house, convinced that whatever was out here was better than what was in there.

"Ma…Maybe we should go back," Jeannie stuttered, covering her gloved hands with her witch's robes.

"You heard them. If you want to head back, fine. But I'm not…I can't…"

Their frightened stares locked, but Jeannie relented in the end, nodding as her curls bounced.

They walked in silence for some time, watching as the last of the trick-or-treaters made their way back into their homes. Now they were alone, a ten-year-old and a six-year-old facing the dark night.

* * *

It was freezing in the flowing mist, but Rodney couldn't stagger far enough away to escape. He didn't understand because there wasn't supposed to be mist in Atlantis, just doctors running to help him with his injury. But there was no Carson here. Not even Biro. The soldiers that had half-dragged his injured self through the gate were gone as well. 

He was shaking everywhere now, unable to control the tremors passing through his body. It was cold and hot, and the knife wound on his side burned. Just like it had when Sheppard had shot him in the same place only a few months ago. He pressed his hand further into the wound, moaning from the pain it caused but still pushing in more to the control the bleeding.

He tried to ignore the howl coming from some distance away. It sounded like a coyote, but he wasn't ruling out some sort of alien werewolf. Maybe that faint glow ahead was a full moon. A slight laugh escaped his lips as he realized just how ridiculous his mind was acting today. Sure, it was Halloween back on Earth, but not here. Pegasus didn't have a clue about his least-favorite holiday and he'd like to keep it that way. His injury was clouding his mind, distracting him with ridiculous ideas.

He knew he needed to find the DHD and dial home, but seeing past the fog just wasn't going to happen. Instead, he fell to the ground, catching himself on a curved piece of cement. The clouds cleared just enough around the moon that a spotlight emanated from the sky, casting itself on the strange object.

"Here lies Meredith McKay. He couldn't save any of them. He couldn't even save himself."

The tombstone barely registered before the rest of the world went dark. He didn't notice the skeletal creatures that came, lifted him onto a stretcher, and carried him away toward the giant castle in the distance.

* * *

John Sheppard emerged from the wormhole with his P-90 raised and Teyla by his side. He was immediately thankful for the warm clothing and thin black gloves, as he felt the biting frost and cold winds. Visibility was quickly approaching epsilon, which was to say non-existent. Placing the night-vision goggles on his head, he saw some stone shapes in the distance, but nothing human. 

He moved forward cautiously, making sure there was room for Beckett, Lorne, Zelenka, and a few marines to come through, as well. The wormhole closed, taking away the only source of light for miles. Thank God for the goggles.

Lorne lifted his life signs detector into his field of sight. "I am reading multiple life signs, all around us."

"I am also detecting strange energy readings." Zelenka clutched his scanner in one hand, his P-90 still resting on his thigh. He was one of the better shots among the scientists, so that was something at least. Still, Sheppard would have felt better if Rodney were here trying to work everything out. Given the circumstances, well…if they had Rodney they wouldn't exactly be scoping out this planet anyway.

"Rodney!" he shouted, his voice echoing four times before disappearing into the fog. A beacon of light appeared some feet ahead where Sheppard figured the clouds must have made way for the moon. But there was no answer--Rodney, alien, or otherwise.

"Doctor McKay, can you hear us?" Teyla called into her radio. When no reply came, she turned toward Zelenka. "We are sure that this is where he was sent?" She was shivering despite the warm clothing, as were they all. Sheppard figured it couldn't be more than ten degrees above zero.

Teyla fumbled some with the weapon, unsure how to handle it with the gloves. She was generally good at adapting, though, so he knew she'd figure it out when necessary.

Zelenka was talking, so Sheppard tried to listen while keeping up his survey of the area. "Yes, we were lucky that the one time McKay steps through a faulty gate, it is on planet with lots of backups including tracing wormhole trajectories. The gate managed to save his pattern and send it to the closest available gate, which is here."

Sheppard had heard all of this before, but it helped hearing it once more, because it meant that McKay might still be alive. Which was more than could be said for the soldiers who had tried bringing the injured scientist home. "McKay?" he called again, if only to quell the fear tangling itself within his guts.

"Given the poison alone, I'd say he has no more than three hours." Carson fumbled with his pack, his 9-mil also on his thigh. "However, the knife injury is far more severe. Stomach wounds are nasty buggers and frankly, we need to get to him now."

"I'm not giving up on him," Sheppard said firmly, the events of the last few days far too vivid in his mind. One more day in the Pegasus Galaxy equaled one more life hanging in the balance, and this time it was Rodney's. A random villager had gone insane and stabbed Rodney for no noticeable reason, and then had managed to stab Ronon, who of course won the overall battle. The rest, well, that was history and didn't matter much to him right now. What mattered was getting to Rodney.

"Okay, let's split up. Zelenka, Rodriguez, and Dr. Grimes, you're with me. Teyla, Lorne, Beckett, and Deschutes, head toward the left. Radio calls every fifteen minutes. If a team fails to make contact, continue the search until 0100 hours and then head back to the gate and get help for the others. Clear?" Just a short while ago he had accidentally shot Rodney, he wasn't going to risk losing him again.

Sheppard's team headed straight for the only sign of anything on this planet, concrete markers surrounded distorted trees. Zelenka was following close behind. A howl crossed through the night sky, and Zelenka jumped, holding back a startled scream. Dr. Grimes did the same, clutching her medical bag closer to her chest.

"Rodney would choose to get lost on a planet such as this," Zelenka muttered, "all so he could laugh about me having to go off world."

"Where were the life signs you were picking up, Sir?" Rodriguez looked about as uncomfortable as the scientists, but he spoke and acted with confidence, one of the reasons Sheppard had chosen to bring him on this mission.

"According to this, they should be right here."

The team exchanged concerned glances before they all jumped back in unison, close enough now to see the gray markers.

"Tombstones," Zelenka and Sheppard exclaimed in unison.

"We are in a graveyard." Dr. Grimes' voice was calm given the circumstances, and it was clear that though she had been startled earlier, she would hide it better next time. Sheppard could see it in the way she held her back straight, gripping her 9-mil as though she had always carried one. Maybe she had; he needed to read her profile. "But why life signs?"

"Catacombs, maybe," Rodriguez answered. "Didn't early Christians hold services underground among the graves of the dead in order to avoid persecution?"

As Rodriguez spoke, Sheppard knelt to the ground, dusting off the cement block. "It's a good place to hide if you don't want to be found. I'm willing to bet Rodney's down there with the rest of the life signs."

"That is a bet I am…Oh my..." Zelenka's face became a few shades paler, and Sheppard was sure his did the same. "I must be hallucinating. That cannot say…"

Sheppard had to concentrate on steadying his hand and voice, as he read aloud, "Here lies Amanda McKay. Age 40. Her son was the death of her."

"It is possible that Rodney shares his last name with an alien family. The universe is large." As Zelenka spoke, a howl echoed through the graveyard once more.

"Shit." Sheppard flung the goggles off his face and saw Zelenka do the same. "Did yours just shock you?"

"Yes, as I see yours did you. It does not make sense that they would both malfunction at the same time." Beside him, Rodriguez and Grimes took startled steps back, taking off their own goggles.

"Let's just find McKay and get out of here."

"I am inclined to agree with you, Colonel."

He tried wearing the goggles again, but they still didn't work. At least the fog was clearing, so the moon's glow was enough to guide them through the winding graveyard. Sheppard began the trek, shivering as a chilling wind brushed past. Dust from the tombs flew into the air, losing itself among the mist. In its wake, etched words on stone remained.

Rodriguez read them aloud. "Rest in Peace, Brendan Gaul, he died a valiant death, no thanks to his boss.

"R.I.P., Peter Grodin, he will always be missed."

"This is too great a coincidence, Colonel." Zelenka stowed the useless scanner and then drew his 9-mil as though just remembering that he had it.

Sheppard nodded. "Just this morning, Rodney was complaining about Halloween. How he hated everything to do with the holiday from obsessions with death to the wandering around in the cold."

"And now we are on a spooky planet."

"Any ideas?"

"The energy readings have disappeared. It would seem all of our equipment no longer works here. So no, no ideas other than the ridiculous. Perhaps we are seeing manifestations from Rodney's own mind?"

"Now that's a disturbing thought." Sheppard grabbed the life signs detector again, not surprised that all of the life signs had also disappeared, including their own. Activating the radio, he spoke quickly. "Teyla, Lorne, please respond."

Static.

"Teyla, Lorne, this is Sheppard. Please respond."

More static.

"The radios are dead?" Dr. Grimes asked, her voice trembling slightly. Her hand holding the weapon didn't shake, though, and that was what mattered.

Beside him, Rodriguez calmly tried his own radio. "Nothing, Sir."

"So if the others find Rodney, they have no way of notifying us," Radek noted.

"As long as they bring Rodney back, I'm willing to live with that. 0100 hours folks, that's three hours away." Sheppard surveyed the surroundings once more, noting how ominous everything was. "Let's keep moving."

They moved as one down the winding path, stepping between the stones. There were forty, maybe fifty in all. Sheppard wondered just how many of them were like the others, bearing the names of people Rodney carried in his mind as though their deaths were his burden. He wondered if maybe his own graveyard in his mind would look the same, but then he realized his would be much larger. He glanced at the black band on his arm, continuing forward, wondering how these graves had appeared here in the first place.

"Sir!" Spinning to the left, Sheppard's P-90's light fell on the white face of Lt. Rodriguez. He was breathing loudly, his chest moving in and out at far too fast a rate. "There was something here, Sir. A shadow of some kind."

Sheppard swept the area with the light from his P-90, while Rodriguez did the same. Zelenka and Grimes, meanwhile, used their flashlights. Everyone came up empty.

"Whatever it was, it's gone now." Sheppard's P-90 came to rest, pointing toward the area where Rodriguez had originally seen the shadow. There was another tombstone there, this one much smaller than the rest, but isolated on a short platform covered in weeds. One sole tree stood beside it, its wiry branches reaching out into the particularly dark night.

Sheppard had had enough of these engravings, but felt compelled to kneel down and read the engravings anyway. "Here lies Meredith McKay. He couldn't save any of them. He couldn't even save himself."

He wouldn't admit, if asked, to the sudden drop in his stomach at seeing those words. There was just something inherently wrong with looking at one of his friend's graves, even if it wasn't real—couldn't be real. "What the hell is going on here?"

There were no answers. He wasn't really expecting any. He wondered if maybe he should have brought Heightmeyer along so he could see what she made of this place.

"Colonel?" This time it was Zelenka who spoke, his voice little more than a squeak.

Sheppard faced the scientist only to see him fall over, catching himself on one of the tombstones. He was trembling fiercely. Then Sheppard realized that it wasn't really him trembling, but the ground. Rodriguez and Grimes gave startled cries as the ground beneath them began to do the same.

Zelenka managed to jump away from the grave just as an arm thrust up from beneath, its hand rolled into a tight fist.

TBC  



	2. Lost

Teyla wasn't sure what to make of Halloween. It was her third year with the Lanteans, so she was now accustomed to watching them celebrate the peculiar holiday, but the concept was difficult to grasp. Why people would go out of their way to scare themselves once a year was a foreign idea at best. Perhaps, she supposed, it came from a lack of fear in their everyday lives. On Earth—the mystical place that was a far away home for so many of them—they did not have the Wraith to keep that fear alive day after day. So the people created one special night to let their own fears fuel them. It was odd, yes, but perhaps understandable when seen in that light.

The year previous, John had set up what they called a haunted house within Atlantis itself. Ronon was given the honor of playing in the grand finale, guaranteed to scare anyone within a ten-mile radius. That was how John explained it at any rate. To be fair, many of the Athosian children did scream, but for Teyla, well, the most Zombie Sheppard managed to get from her was a raised eyebrow and a shake of the head.

It was hard to believe that this current planet was not another of John's haunted houses. The dense fog stopped just meters from the gate, and in the distance she could barely make out a castle sitting atop a hillside. Even from here she could see that the windows were crooked and that the house sat on a slight slant beside a few leafless trees. There was a set of winding stairs outside the house, beside which a flaming torch sent streams of smoke into the opaque night. And it wasn't just the house that seemed to share in the Halloween theme. Silhouettes of large birds winged before a perfectly round moon. Beside her, an entourage of spiders scurried across the mud to some unknown destination.

"Creepy place Rodney managed to land himself in." Carson hoisted his pack further up his back, his gaze lost in the castle up ahead. "I suppose we should be heading up there."

"Probably. It's about the only lead we have to go on. Don't worry, doc, we'll have your back." Lorne offered an encouraging smile, which Teyla backed up with her own silent nod.

"Aye, I trust that you will. Let's get up there then. The sooner we get to Rodney, the sooner we can get out of here." Beckett's eyes were downcast, and though Teyla knew he would say nothing aloud, she could see that the physician felt they were probably too late.

"You're sure this is a good idea?" Deschutes asked. She stared at the castle as though seeing through it. She bit down on her lip in a nervous way that Teyla was not sure she liked seeing on one of the Marines. Soldiers were human, it was true, but distraction and fear too often led to death.

Teyla offered her a warm smile. "No, I am not sure it is a good idea, but it may help lead us to Dr. McKay."

Teyla took the lead, leaving Lorne and Deschutes to cover the rear. Each breath that she took came with a cold cloud that quickly melded with the fading fog. Her hands stung despite the gloves covering them, and it was awkward trying to move in the heavy clothing. Athos was never this cold.

"Colonel?" Teyla touched her radio, her gaze never leaving the endless trail of spiders. "Colonel Sheppard, this is Teyla, please respond."

No response. It wasn't completely unexpected seeing as how she had received the same results five minutes previously, but it did not hurt to try again.

Behind her, she could hear Lorne trying his own radio to no avail. She had been on many missions where contact had been lost and none of them had turned out well. She shoved her fears aside, keeping on a leader's mask of serene calm. Rodney was somewhere on this planet in need of their help, and she would render him assistance at all costs.

"We should continue on." She prayed silently to the Ancestors for protection and guidance.

"I'm still not reading any life signs. Not even our own." Lorne held the detector with his left hand, but still managed to keep his weapon level. After the third sweep, he shook the equipment hard before shoving it back his pocket. Teyla could see that he was also shivering. Perhaps it did not get this cold on Earth, either.

"Maybe we should return to Atlantis and get backup," Deschutes replied, her eyes jumping from the spiders to the moon and then back to the mansion.

It was common, Teyla realized, for the new Marines to react with trepidation to off-world missions, as though convinced that their first mission would also be their last. The hardest part for Teyla was knowing that such fears were warranted.

That was why, when she did reply to the Marine, she made sure her voice was calm and patient. "No, we will continue on. Rodney is in need of our help. We will not rest until we find him."

The mansion was farther away than it first appeared. Carson struggled with the rocky terrain, his climbs not made any easier by the heavy clothing and packs. He was not Rodney, though, and he took most of it in stride, not complaining. He was the good doctor, focused entirely on getting to his patient in need.

They could not have been more than twenty meters away—when had she started thinking in Earth measurements?—when she heard a twig break. Were it not for the fact that she was in the lead and the sound came from up ahead, she might never have separated it from the sounds of her own team. As it was, she raised her hand in the air, listening careful for any further movement.

She didn't have to wait long. It sounded like subdued sniffles and maybe even a repressed hiccup or two. "Hello?" she called softly. "Is someone here?" There was nothing in her light's beam, but she could still hear silent cries. "It's okay. You can come out. We won't hurt you."

There was the sound of ice crushing beneath something, before a face appeared. It belonged to a boy, who wiped his sleeve against his eyes.

"Hello," Teyla repeated.

"Who are you?" The child took a step back when Teyla took one forward. He held his arms close to his chest, surveying everyone else with wide, blue eyes.

"My name is Teyla. What is yours?"

The kid didn't answer, just shaking, looking behind him as though ready to bolt at a moments notice. There was something familiar about the boy, and Teyla was sure it came down to his eyes, though she couldn't place them. He was trembling, and she didn't think it was just because of the cold. He wore a black cloak and strange make-up—much like the ones used for John's haunted house.

"What's wrong, lad?" Carson stepped forward, taking in the kid's appearance with skilled eyes.

The kid shook his head frantically, his voice breaking as he spoke. "Help. I…I…need help. She's hurt and it's cold out and I'm scared that she might die and it would all be my fault." The child spoke fast, faster than she had even heard Rodney speak before.

"Who's hurt?"

"My sister. Please, there's no time!"

Teyla was torn as she stared at the child. She did want to help, but the child was right in more ways that one. Rodney didn't have time for this. They needed to get to him soon or he would die. But it went against all of her instincts to leave this young one alone, especially when he was so clearly terrified.

"Where is she?" Carson asked, making some of the decision for her if only because he was caught in the moment.

"Just over there, I think. I lost track. We were supposed to go home, but we didn't because mom and dad were arguing again. We got lost and now I don't know where we are exactly. Please, help! You have to help."

"We will do what we can." Teyla stepped closer, and this time the child dint' back up. She knelt down to his height, brushing his tears away with a sweep of her hand. "But we too are looking for someone. A man that is seriously hurt. We must find him soon."

The child bit down on his lip, backing away from her. "There was a man here. He was bleeding so they took him away."

"Who took him away?" Teyla asked.

"They did. The ones from the house. You don't want to go there, though; once someone enters they never ever leave. You know that, right? Listen, please, hurry and help my sister. I need to find her now before it's too late."

"I'll go with him," Deschutes offered, stepping forward. She gulped, hugged her P-90 closer, but then raised her head with a new found determination.

Under normal circumstances, Teyla would never agree with splitting the team up more, especially given their current lack of radio communication, but she could not leave the kid alone and she could not sacrifice McKay. There was only one choice to be made then. Teyla nodded.

"Emily will help you find your sister, okay?"

The boy seemed unsure for a moment, but he agreed in the end. He walked over to Deschutes and grabbed her hand. "We should hurry." The boy raised his chin into the air as he spoke.

"Okay, Teyla and Beckett, head to the creepy house then," Lorne ordered. "Deschutes and I will go with the kid. We'll try to meet up with you at the house, but if anything goes wrong, we'll meet at the gate at the specified time."

"Understood. Good luck on your endeavors." Teyla bowed her head slightly as she spoke.

The marines and child disappeared behind the trees and fog.

"That boy remind you of anyone?" Carson asked as they made their way back up the winding path.

* * *

Zombies. John was in a graveyard fighting…zombies—or at least a close approximation thereof. After the first hand had popped through the ground, and John's team made a valiant effort at backing far away, more hands had made an appearance, followed by full-fledged bodies.

There was no way to escape since zombies surrounded them on all sides. Although the bullets firing from his P-90 were doing a good job of taking off their arms, legs, heads and otherwise, most of the creatures just flinched back and kept coming. Once one zombie appeared from a grave and stepped aside, another zombie emerged from the same location.

There were hundreds of them.

They mumbled "grrr" as they moved and much to John's amazement—or not—they even mumbled "Brains. We want brains." It was one horrible cliché and the simple fact that this was really happening just made John's brain want to break.

To be fair, it was hard to hear over all the weapons fire, and maybe all the mumbling was just his imagination anyway. Perhaps Rodney was right; Halloween wasn't the best holiday. Speaking of Rodney, John really didn't have the time to battle hunched-over creepy beings with skin peeling from their faces. Their dark, glassy eyes stared at him as they continued to move closer.

Zelenka and Grimes didn't have a P-90s, just a 9-mil each and that wasn't going to provide near enough firepower for the battle. Sheppard made his way toward them, and Rodriguez was smart enough to do the same. Making a decided effort not to trip on burning pieces of severed limbs, Sheppard and team moved into a circle, their backs facing the center.

"I am now convinced that this is some very bad dream." Zelenka reloaded his weapon as he spoke, his hands trembling.

This was one of those rare fights where the enemy didn't actually have any weapons to fire at them. Still, John didn't want to know what happened if any of the creatures managed to get too close. His P-90 wasn't going to keep firing forever, so it was only a matter of time before he would find out.

"I don't suppose anyone has a plan?" he shouted.

"I was hoping you had one, Sir."

"This is not my area of expertise," Zelenka responded.

"Don't let them near us?"

Sheppard released a small chuckle at Dr. Grimes' comment. "Yeah, I'd say that's a good idea."

A howl echoed through the night once more. Not a second later, the zombies all stopped in place. The howl came again, followed by another and then another. They came in quick succession, and then many at once. They were getting closer.

The zombies weren't even mumbling anymore. They just stood there, and John could swear their eyes had gone wide with terror.

Taking advantage of the opportunity, John reloaded his P-90 and listened as everyone else did the same. "All right folks, we're making a break for it."

"Where exactly, Sir? They're all around us."

"Right through them, while they're…"

Another howl and the zombies began to move once more, but no longer toward their group. They lunged toward the graves, fighting one another for the chance to return to the Earth.

Another howl was followed by a scream. It was a strange, mumbled and startled scream, and Sheppard knew it came from a zombie. He saw multiple figures, large and covered in fur, leap into the air, each pouncing a zombie or two. Wolves. They were giant wolves indulging in a feast.

"Move it, people!" Sheppard pushed Zelenka and Grimes forward for emphasis. The pair didn't hesitate, running away at a pace that would make a Marine proud. Sheppard covered their backs, P-90 poised. He knew running away meant catching the wolves' attention, but it was the only option he could see.

The first monster wolf to leap toward them was met with a barrage of weapons fire. It fell quickly. Another one tried where the first failed, but met the same fate. The next time, two came at once. The power of the P-90 was just what he needed, but one of the wolves fell literally at his feet, and it wasn't dead. Its sharp teeth gleamed in the moon's beam as the creature's claw swept into the air, contacting his leg with a painful slice.

John killed it without hesitation. After that, the wolves seemed happy enough to just feast on the zombies.

What was this place?

Confident that another wouldn't follow, Sheppard turned to run and catch up with his team. It was difficult work with this new wound on his calf. It hurt. Layers of his flesh had been torn and he didn't even want to think about how much blood might be oozing out of him. The pain told him one thing—this wasn't a dream. He never felt pain in dreams.

Zelenka managed to find a cave, and he motioned for John to follow him inside. "You are hurt?" he asked, offering a shoulder for support.

"It's not as bad as it could be. Everyone else okay?"

"Dr. Grimes hurt her ankle while running. She is unable to stand on it."

The cave was a tight fit, especially for four. Zelenka lowered John to the concrete floor right beside Dr. Grimes.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" The doctor grabbed for her bag, shifting through its contents and emerging with a few bandages and disinfectant. Her forehead was tight with pain as she moved.

"No. Look, we don't have time for this. We have to get to Rodney."

"You won't get far on that leg. And I'm not going anywhere on this ankle. I know you don't want to hear this, Colonel, but it's going to be a miracle if Rodney's not already dead from the stab wound. We have no idea what is out there, but our injuries aren't going to help us protect ourselves."

Sheppard grimaced as she applied the treatment, his teeth clamped tightly together. When she was finished, he glared at her. "We are not giving up Rodney for dead. Do I make myself clear?"

He stared into her blue, stern eyes, wondering if he was imagining the coldness within them. She blinked away, holding her head down.

"I respect your convictions, Colonel, but I'm trying to be realistic here."

Zelenka cleared his throat, stepping forward while taking a deep breath. There was something in the way he hung his head that screamed resignation, but there was something else there as well—determination. The same kind of determination that Sheppard felt.

"I will not allow Rodney to be left behind, either," Zelenka said. "Rodriguez and I can go ahead while you two stay here."

Rodriguez didn't flinch at the suggestion, though his eyes lowered. He raised them again, his military face impassive. "It would make the most sense, Sir."

Grimes pulled out a needle, supposedly for the pain, so Sheppard shook his head in answer to all of them. "No. No drugs and," he turned to stare at Zelenka, "Not a good idea."

Zelenka clenched his fist, glaring back at Sheppard. "Rodney is seriously injured, I cannot believe that you would have us leave him."

John lifted his hand into the air, silencing the scientist. "I'm not saying we shouldn't go after Rodney. I'm just saying that I'm going with you."

It was Rodriguez who answered. "With all due respect, Sir, I don't know if that's a good idea."

"I've fought with a lot worse injuries than this, Lieutenant. McKay is my teammate and I'm not going to let a low-level injury keep me from saving his life."

"I understand that, Sir. However, we could move quicker without you and time is of the essence. Dr. Grimes' injury makes it impossible for her to move, and I don't think it's a good idea to leave her alone, given everything we are facing right now. I'm sorry, Sir, but I do think it would be best if you helped Dr. Grimes return to Atlantis. At the very least you can tell Dr. Weir what is happening here and see if anyone over there has any ideas on how to help us search this terrain."

Sheppard shook his head again. Rodney did need time, but Sheppard wouldn't slow the search down. He wasn't lying. He'd fought a few battles before with worse injuries, and even then he had managed to be quick. Still, he hesitated. He looked toward Grimes, if he left her here and she died…well, everyone who went off world knew what they were getting into.

"Go," Grimes whispered. "I won't be going anywhere." She closed her doctor's bag, handing it over to Zelenka. Sheppard locked eyes with her for but a moment before she spoke again. "Go on, move it. He doesn't have much time. Don't stay on account of me."

Sheppard gave a short nod, one with respect and admiration despite the words she had said earlier. He really did work with the best, and that didn't mean just the Marines.

TBC  



	3. Skeletons and Witches, Oh my!

This didn't go through as many betas as it should have, but it did go through one or two. Thanks to everyone who reviewed. Much appreciated. Here, have some angst soup to help fight away the cold.

Oh, and Disclaimer: While Rodney does make a comment about witches back on Earth, please realize his views are not necessarily my own. They're more of what Rodney would think given what we know of his character, so um...don't blame me for how Rodney thinks. End Disclaimer.

* * *

It was difficult to breathe much less move. Rodney's chest felt like no fewer than fifty men were sitting on him and his side…Oh damn did his side burn with pain. He lay on the cold, frosted floor of wherever he was. From somewhere not to far away he heard a cackle and what sounded like water being sloshed around in a giant container. Forcing one of his eyes open, he waited for them to focus and complete the picture. 

He groaned not only from the pain but also from what he saw.

Before him stood a woman in black robes, a pointed black hat on her head. Her skin was green and there was a giant wart on her cheek. She continued cackling, revealing a set of nasty black teeth.

"He's awake!" a male voice called. A skeleton approached, his skull just inches away from Rodney.

"Good, good, the potion is working then." The witch's voice was hoarse. She lowered her giant stirring stick. "How are you feeling, Master? Much better, no?"

It had to be a hallucination. While _witches _(and he used the term loosely) existed back in the Milky Way, they most certainly did not wear pointed hats. He very much doubted Pegasus had an equivalent so eerily familiar to the Halloween version. What's more, he was clearly not a man in costume, but rather a mass of bones—each piece clattering against another as he walked.

Seeing as how Rodney was stabbed on Halloween, it only made sense that he would dream something this bizarre, so he decided to not worry about it and re-close his eyes. Everything in him hurt so much and he was ready to pass out from the pain alone.

"Yes, Master, rest. Rest is good." The witch's nose was just centimeters away from Rodney's cheek, creating an itch he was too weary to scratch..

"I thought you said the potion would help him!" It was the skeleton again, his voice furious.

"It did, my friend, it did. See for yourself that the bleeding has stopped. Color returns to his face.. Give him time. Give him time."

Rodney didn't hear much more of the conversation as he began drifting off to sleep. Strange, hadn't he been asleep already?

* * *

"What is your name?" Deschutes held the boy's hand in her own as they walked through the forest. Lorne lit their path with his P-90, walking on the kid's other side. 

"Mer…Rodney. I go by Rod," the kid answered. "That lady said your name was Emily?"

"That's right. And this is Major Lorne." Deschutes did her best to smile. This child seemed so happy and full of energy and yet there was this gleam in his eyes as though he was ready to dissect the world for its knowledge. It reminded her of her own son. She shoved the thought away. This was not the time to dwell on what might have been…on what had been lost so many years ago. What had she been thinking when she agreed to follow this kid?

The kid held tight to her arm. He bit lightly on his lower lip. "Thanks, by the way," he said, waving his free arm as he spoke. "I…I…We didn't mean to be out so long, but we were scared and… Mom's going to be furious." The kid wiped his sniffles away with his sleeve, and though she could only feel his hand shivering, Deschutes was sure the rest of him was as well.

"That's a nice cloak you have," she said, more as a way to distract the kid from his troubles than anything else.

"My mom made it. Warm, but it itches." As if for emphasis, Rodney released her hand long enough to scratch at his arm.

Deschutes nodded absently. "I'm sure your parents are very worried about you."

"Maybe." The kid kicked a stone with his left foot, watching with a sullen expression as it skipped across the ground.

"The man we're here looking for,, his name is Rodney as well," Lorne said, his first words since they had broken off from the group. He took a moment from surveying the land to observe the child. Deschutes could see something in Lorne's eyes, distrust perhaps?

"It's not unheard of for two people to share the same name." Rodney huddled further into his cloak, and Deschutes wondered if it was just just for warmth or also to hide from Lorne's scrutinizing gaze.

"What is your sister dressed as, Rodney?" Lorne kept his voice casual.

"A witch. I'm a vampire." Rodney swept his cape before his face as though to look menacing. Then his arm fell, revealing an exaggerated pout. "I wanted to be Mr. Spock but she wouldn't let me."

Deschutes met Lorne's stare, raising her left eyebrow. She had helped Colonel Sheppard with his haunted house this year, jumping at the chance to scare the alien children. But to find such a close approximation of Halloween on a planet such as this was more than improbable than the Wraith deciding they didn't want to feed on humans anymore.

Rodney stopped mid-tracks beside a street lamp. Its presence in the dense forest didn't even faze Deschutes. Whatever was happening on this planet, she just needed to go with the flow until she could get to Dr. McKay and bring him home safe and sound. Marines didn't have to ask questions to follow orders, or so she had been told.

Rodney's tiny hand clenched tightly around her own. He gulped, his face turning a shade paler. His voice trembled. "This is about where I left her when I went to get help."

Chocolate bars and hard candies littered the ground, a plastic pumpkin basket sitting just a few feet away. She held some of the candy in her palm, noticing the familiar brand names. Even if this world had its own version of Halloween, it wouldn't have chocolate bars with the Hershey's name, and yet the words were clearly printed in white on a dark wrapper.

"Any idea where she might have gone?" She knelt down to Rod's eye-level, keeping her voice soft.

Rodney shook his head, tears flowing down his eyes. "We have to find her!"

"We'll do our best." She reached over, brushing away his tears. Her own stomach was revolving. Somewhere the mother of these kids was sitting, worried, waiting for them to come home. Whoever she was, she deserved for that reunion to happen. Deschutes looked back at the candies in her hand. She needed to find Rodney's sister.

Deschutes watched from her periphery as Lorne leaned down to the ground, a red sticky substance painting his finger. She whispered a silent prayer, glad to see that Rodney was oblivious to this new evidence..

"Jeannie!" the boy called, releasing his grip on her hand. "Jeannie, please tell us where you are. I've brought help!"

His only reply was the echo of his own voice.

Lorne passed the child a suspicious look before turning back to the blood. "There isn't much of it," he whispered so only someone trying to listen would hear.

Deschutes gave a small nod of understanding. Waving her flashlight over the ground, she looked for more clues while Rodney continued to scream for his sister.

She knelt down to the ground once more where something white hid behind dead grass. She held it in her hand, caressing its smooth surface. "Sir, I think you should see this."

Lorne stepped forward, accepting the object she held out. "A bone?"

"It would appear so, Sir."

Rodney's eyes went wide as he turned on the pair. "What did you say?" he asked, running beside them. "No no no! It can't be…"

"What?" Lorne reached out to grab his shoulders and offer comfort, but Rodney backed away from him, his eyes never leaving the bone.

"They have her," Rodney whispered, his voice a soft whimper.

"Who?"

"Don't you see? The skeletons!" he cried, falling to the ground and weeping.

* * *

Carson wasn't one to give up on a patient before they were pronounced dead, but from everyone's description of Rodney's injury, Carson just couldn't see how the scientist could still be alive. The poison wouldn't be so bad as the knife that carried it.. He hoped he was wrong, that yet one more miracle in the Pegasus Galaxy would come and save his friend's life, but hard as he fought, Carson couldn't suppress the feeling that this was all in vain. 

He had to move swiftly to keep from sliding down the hill, constantly checking for sturdy footholds. A wrong move in the juggling act and he'd tumble downward. While it was true such a fall wouldn't kill him, he didn't have the time to make a mistake.

Teyla offered her arm for leverage on the last leg of the journey, an offer he accepted, hoisting himself onto the plateau. "Bloody hell," he whispered, staring up at the house.

Fiery smoke from the torches accosted his lungs and stung in his eyes. Shielding his face, he continued to move forward and up the winding stairs until he was beside six pumpkin-like vegetables carved with faces and words. A single flame was placed inside each of them so that the words glowed brightly. One of the faces, though he couldn't quite say why, reminded him of a Wraith coming in for the kill. Throwing that thought far away, Carson glanced at the others.

"Alone. Pathetic. Killer. Failure. Not so sure I want to know who lives in here, then." Carson forced back a shiver, willing himself to not back away from the scene.

Howls sounded from some place far away, many of them all at once. Carson jumped with the first one, but Teyla was good enough to ignore his response, or at least not to mention it.

Something crossed by his left leg. He looked down to see a pair of yellow eyes intent on staring up at him. The black creature, practically invisible in the darkness, opened its snout to reveal a set of small, but visibly razor sharp, teeth. A distinct _meow_ immediately followed.

"Hello there." He looked at the cat and then to the pumpkins, to the large wooden door of the crooked mansion, and back to the cat. If it weren't for the circumstances, he would swear someone was playing a bad practical joke on him.

The cat meowed again in response, walking toward the door. Its long tail reached out to caress the pumpkin that labeled "Killer" before winding itself back into the air. The oversized door opened with a thunderous creak, allowing the cat to come inside. The door remained open even as the cat disappeared down a long corridor lit only by torches.

"Hello?" Teyla called. "Is anyone home?"

There was no answer.

"My name is Teyla Emmagan and I am here in search of an injured friend. Please, we could use some assistance."

No reply again.

"Perhaps no one is home?" Carson found himself fumbling with his jacket sleeve. He listened to himself breathe in large, deep breaths. "I don't mind saying that this place completely creeps me out."

Teyla's breathing wasn't much quieter. "I must agree that I find it unnerving."

"Do you think we should just go in then?"

Teyla shivered, brushing away some of the nasal drip from her upper lip. "I sense that this is where we should be. I cannot explain it, but I feel that Rodney is nearby, or at least there is someone here that can help us."

Now it was Carson's turn to shiver, but he wasn't so sure it was just from the cold. "Aye, I was afraid you were you going to say that."

**TBC **


	4. Flashes

_I'm on the last stretch for finishing this story. I think there is only two parts more to go from this post. Enjoy! Thanks to all who reviewed and helped out!_

* * *

Sheppard clenched his teeth, breathing heavily with each step. Rodriguez and Radek were under strict orders not to wait for him if he slowed them down, and Sheppard refused to fall behind. Crouching behind the foliage, Sheppard kept a look out for wolves, zombies, or anything else that might want to inflict more pain. What was it Zelenka had suggested? That this place was a manifestation of Rodney's mind? Implausible as it seemed, it would explain the gravestones and the creatures of this world. And they _were_ in the Pegasus Galaxy, so anything was possible. 

If it did turn out to be Rodney's mind doing all of this, Sheppard was going to have a long talk with the scientist when they got back. He'd avoid mentioning the graveyard, though, because…well, there were things Sheppard just didn't need to know.

"Sir," Rodriguez spun sixty degrees, kneeling closer to the ground while aiming his P-90 at a clear target.

Sheppard did the same, catching a shadow in his periphery. A cloaked figure made his way through the trees, barely visible but for the moon's light. Sheppard motioned for Rodriguez and Radek to stay low and cover him, before standing up.

"Hello," Sheppard called to the figure.

It stopped, but said nothing.

"My name is Colonel Sheppard. I'm in search of an injured friend. Can you help us?"

Again the figure did not answer. It remained still, its head bowed beneath its hood.

"We won't hurt you. We just need some help." Sheppard didn't like the way his gut was sinking. He held tight to the P-90, ready for use in a moments notice.

The figured whispered in a frightening hiss, "Is that so? Forgive me, John, if I fail to believe you. It is John, isn't it?"

"Who are you?"

The figure didn't answer. It did not move.

Sheppard glanced toward his companions, still hidden behind the trees. Rodriguez stood firm, ready to fire at the first sign of trouble. Zelenka, on the other hand, cowered low. He was visibly shaking, holding his weapon as closely as one would a teddy bear.

The figure had yet to speak again. Sheppard could hear his clock tick with each passing second, even if the sound was only in his imagination. He didn't have time for confrontation. "I'll just be on my way then," he called, taking a tentative step forward.

The figure swept closer. "John Sheppard? Is that right?" It laughed, shaking its head. The laugh dissipated as fast as it came, silenced by its angry voice. "I suppose you'll have me believe Rodney's the one injured, or perhaps you came from an Ancient city. You know what, though? I'm not buying it. Who are you really and what do you want?"

The figure's voice was eerily familiar as was the hiss. The words registered slowly in Sheppard's mind as he tried to dissect their meaning. He forced himself to move forward, needing to have a better look at this stranger. "Are you going to tell me who you are?"

The figure took his own step forward, removing his hood as he walked. "It would appear that I am you. Or rather, that you are me."

John gasped. He raised his P-90, holding firm to his position. The face before him was indeed his own, but not as it was now. Blue encrusted skin covered every layer of his face. The eyes were those of a predator, and the teeth were those of a Wraith.

"What the hell is going on here?"

The figure swept forward, opening its mouth, turning its head, and hissing. "What indeed, Colonel Sheppard. I wonder which one of us is real? I remember telling Carson to kill me before allowing me to become a Wraith, and then I appeared here with no other reasoning. And you? Do you know how you came to be here?"

"The gate." Sheppard wasn't sure why he hadn't fired yet. It was a Wraith before him sure as those were zombies back in the graveyard. Did it matter that it bore his face?

"I suppose that does explain some things," Wraith-Sheppard said. "In a way, I'm kind of glad to hear it."

"Are you now?" He shouldn't be talking to this thing. He shouldn't be wasting time. He should just fire. But he couldn't.

The figure moved back, its yellow eyes staring forward. "Kill me," it whispered.

"Excuse me?"

"I said kill me! Right now, I want to feed. The need grows stronger in me every second that we stand here. Kill me, _Colonel_, before I kill you."

"Listen, I love this little chat we're having, but Rodney _is_ the one that is injured. If you really are some version of me, then you care what happens to him. We need to find him and save him. Have you seen him?"

The figure didn't answer right away, lowering its hood once more over its hideous face. "No. I had a dream that the skeletons took him away shortly before I appeared here. Of course, if we're placing bets, I'd say I was still dreaming."

Sheppard seconded the idea, albeit silently. Thinking that this whole mission was far too surreal for his taste, Sheppard asked, "What skeletons?"

"They own this land, I think. Don't ask me how I know, but I do. How long does Rodney have?"

The figure seemed honestly worried, so John answered, "Not much," _if any._ "We need to find him."

The Wraith stepped back. "My need to feed is too great. If I guided you there, you would never make it. Kill me, now. Kill me and you can go and save Rodney."

"Which way is the mansion?"

"Not far. Just keep walking toward your two o'clock. Now kill me!"

Sheppard didn't pull the trigger. It was one thing to kill a Wraith on the prowl. It was another to kill another version of himself.

The creature sensed his reluctance and lunged forward with a Wraith cry.

John pulled the trigger. Wraith-John spasmed with each bullet, before it fell to the ground and did not move again.

Catching his breath, Sheppard watched as Rodriguez ushered Zelenka up. They moved toward his position with a restrained calm.

"Are you okay, Sir?"

Sheppard nodded, answering, "Yeah," but he wasn't really sure. He didn't have time to sort out any of the surreal scene, much as he might need to.

"What was that thing, Sir?"

Radek hugged his arms to his chest, despite the 9-mil in his hand. His pallor was almost as bad as the zombies'. He shook his head, "It is a very long story. You are sure, Colonel, that you will be okay?"

Sheppard looked down at the body—his body—covered in red. He could smell the blood as sure as he could feel the coldness of his P-90 despite the gloves. Holding his nausea at bay, Sheppard nodded. "We should get moving again. I say we try and find this mansion."

As he spoke, a single snowflake waved through the sky, landing on his nose. It was followed by many more, each carried by the howling wind, pushing the opposite direction from which Sheppard and his team were traveling. If he didn't have his weapon, he would huddle into his jacket. He continued despite the frost building on his face. It was difficult to tell the ice outside from the cold of his skin. Still, he was determined to find his friend, so he trudged forward into the growing storm.

* * *

Dr. Grimes enjoyed the cold, but the bustling blizzard was a bit much. She sat by a fire concealed in the cave's mouth, watching flakes bombard the forest outside. She missed the snow more than she had realized, but she would have given it all up for a cup of hot chocolate and the knowledge that she was safe. 

She had volunteered with the Red Cross back when she first earned her medical degree, and as such had spent much of her time surviving in bad situations, but there had always been someone there with her. Now she was alone on another planet and she was afraid. She poked at the dying embers of her fire, entranced by the sparks flying into the air.

A barrage of P-90 fire sounded from close by. Grimes jumped, her arm racing toward the 9-mil at her feet. She cursed her stupid ankle for trapping her here.

"They left me behind too, you know."

She whipped around to where she had heard the low, monotone voice. Behind tendrils of orange and red flames was a man—or maybe a zombie. She gasped, aiming her weapons at his head while backing further against the rocky wall. Blood poured from his wrinkled, pale face. He was covered in cobwebs.

"Don't worry. I won't hurt you," the man said. "I'm Gaul, by the way. Brendan Gaul."

"What do you want?" She held her chin aloft, her back straight, determined to show a confident face.

His glossy eyes bore into her own. He spoke quickly, mumbling, as though speaking more to himself than to her. "Considering I don't even know how I'm here, seeing as how I should be dead and all, I don't really know. I don't suppose you'd mind sharing your fire would you?"

Grimes couldn't think of anything she'd want to do less, but found herself nodding anyway. She found herself speechless as she watched his shadow dance on the cave's wall. She had seen Gaul's name before on a plaque—the one that honored the Atlantis dead. Holding her weapon close, she stared at him and he stared back. Neither moved nor spoke.

* * *

Teyla stepped through the doorway, sweeping the hall with the P-90's light. "Hello?" It was slightly warmer in the mansion if only because of the flame-lit torches. Spiders crawled over stone walls, their exaggerated shadows waving in the torches' glow. "Rodney? Is anyone here?" 

"Over here." It was a soft voice no more than a few meters away. Another child?

A door hung ajar to Teyla's right. Cautiously, she brushed it open. Huddled against the wall was a little girl with blond curls. She held her knees tight to her chest, rocking back and forth in a slow, rhythmic pattern.

Carson ran forward, kneeling next her. "Hello."

"Hi." Bright blue eyes looked up into Teyla's and then Beckett's. The girl didn't say anymore. She hid her head once more within the comfort of her arms.

"Are you hurt, lass?" Beckett released his bag from his back, placing it in front of him. He reached in slowly as though afraid of startling the child.

Teyla could see drops of blood on the floor, scattered between puddles of melting ice. "We are in search of a man," she asked as Beckett began examining the child. It was not that Teyla wanted to be callous, but Rodney was still out there. He still needed her.

"You shouldn't be here." The girl's lips were a light purple, her face white. Ice crystals gleamed on her cheek and nose. She spoke in a low whisper. "None of us should."

"What do you mean?" Teyla stepped forward, feeling the weight of each passing second.

"I'm not sure. I…" The girl sniffled loudly, a whimper escaping. Tears turned to ice as they traveled down her white face. "I was with my brother and then the blizzard started. I remember falling. I remember him leaving. I don't remember what came next. I passed out? I was taken by skeletons? I don't understand?" She sobbed softly, curling her arms closer to her chest. "Nothing makes any sense. We shouldn't be here."

Carson injected something into the girl's arm, but she seemed oblivious. She rocked slightly, mumbling faster.

"Mer didn't want to leave me. But he had to. So he could get help. I couldn't move. But it was cold. And I kept waiting and waiting and he didn't come."

Teyla realized the girl was partly hysterical, partly in shock. She continued to mumble, the tears flowing faster with each heavy breath. This must have been the girl the boy had been looking for. She called him Mer…?

"Listen," Teyla tried once more, "have you seen a man come by here? He is dressed much like we are."

The girl shook her head.

Carson patted the girl's arm before standing up and motioning for Teyla to follow.

"How is she?"

"She's in shock and hypothermic. As far as I can tell, she shouldn't even still be alive much less moving about. If we're going to help her, we need to get her back to Atlantis now."

"Rodney is still out there." Droplets of water fell from Teyla's ponytail onto her shoulders. Brushing her hair back with the gloved hands, she looked to Carson, "We can't give up on him."

"Teyla, I know your team has a tendency to survive the impossible and I concede that your reluctance to give up on each other has a lot to do with that, but given what you've told me, I don't see him still being alive. This girl is."

"Yes, but you just said she shouldn't be. There is something…strange…happening here, Carson. We both know it. That boy for instance…" Teyla closed her eyes a moment, praying for guidance from the Ancestors. "I do not believe that Rodney is dead and I will not abandon him."

Carson surveyed her appraisingly before nodding. "Aye, I wouldn't have expected any different." Carson gazed back to the girl. Teyla could see the hurt in his eyes at having to make this decision—as though whichever he chose would destroy another part of his soul. "We'll be back shortly," he called to the girl, approaching her once more with the same cautious step. He shifted through his bag, taking out a few items. "This should help you with the cold. Here's another bandage for your leg if it needs it, okay? As I said, we'll be back as soon as we can."

The girl glanced up, hurt emanating from her brilliant blue eyes. "I understand," she whispered.

* * *

Rodney huddled further into his cape, sniffling loudly and smearing his makeup in the process. His hands stung and each step took more effort than the previous. He wondered if it was possible for a person to freeze in place. Sneezing loudly, he moaned from the cold, pain, and unease. All he wanted was to go home and rest by the fire with Jeannie. Jeannie…Rodney had screwed up before, but never before like this. What if his sister died? What if it was all his fault? 

Tears streamed down his frosted cheek. He sneezed again. Great, just what he needed: another cold.

The one called Lorne stopped mid-step, leaning down to look at Rodney with a worried smile. Rodney didn't smile back. These people seemed nice enough, but they were still strangers.

"I'm going to carry you the rest of the way if that's okay with you," the soldier said. Despite himself, Rodney nodded. Lorne squatted lower, allowing Rodney to crawl on his back. "Hold on tight now. We're going to be moving quickly."

It had been years since Rodney had had a piggyback ride. His dad said he was too big. Rodney missed riding on his dad's back, though, almost as much as he missed seeing his dad smile.

Lorne's hair was white with snow. Rodney latched onto the Major's vest, resting his head on the wet hair while shivering violently. He sneezed again but he was afraid to wipe his nose for fear of falling. Through stinging eyes, he watched the white landscape pass by, wondering why it wasn't as he remembered. Where were the houses and streetlights and roads? He didn't remember wandering into the forest. No, he had just gone to get Jeannie help.

_"The skeletons have her." _His own words echoed in his mind. Skeletons? It seemed such a strange thing to say and yet he did believe it at the time. He understood it. Even now he knew undeniably that skeletons had taken Jeannie to a mansion. What mansion? His memories were a jumble, more confused than an abstract painting. Was he dreaming? Was he hallucinating? It couldn't be real. None of this could be…

His cape flapped in the wind. He clung to it as tightly as he did to Major Lorne. He sneezed again, watching as green phlegm flew into the air, landing on Lorne's shoulder.

A hand came to rest on his back. "Are you okay?" Emily asked. Rodney's response was to moan softly.

* * *

A sharp, jabbing pain roiled within Rodney's stomach, forcing him to wake up once more. "Rodney?" he heard a voice call from what seemed impossibly far away. He blinked, trying to remember where he was and how he had gotten there. "Teyla? Is that you?" 

"Awake again, Master?" the witch asked.

Witch? Oh yeah, there had been a witch, hadn't there? And a skeleton? No, that didn't make any sense. It must have been a dream A strange, vivid dream. His mind assaulted him with more images. Cats and pumpkins. Gaul. Jeannie. He tried to shake them away but failed.

"Still unwell, Master? But I have repaired your injuries. You should be feeling fine soon, yes?"

"His friends are coming for him," another voice said. It was familiar. The skeleton? That sounded right? His subconscious was definitely intent on this strange nightmare.

"He is right, Master, they have made it into the castle. They come for you."

"Teyla?" McKay found himself mumbling, trying to think past the haze. It was hard to process anything but the terrible pain. And the cold. It was so cold.

"Yes, yes, I do believe that is her name. Her faith in you is strong, Master."

"Teammate," Rodney mumbled, wondering why gnomes were tap dancing on his head. Or at least it felt like some were.

"We can't let her get here, Master. You know that right?"

Rodney shook his head, wondering why he'd sleep on such a concrete floor. If this was a dream, surely his brain could have come up with something more comfortable. What was the witch saying again? So hard to think…

"Skeleton," the witch called, "rally up your crews. No one is to arrive here. Understood?"

"Yes, Witch."

Rodney found himself drifting again. He couldn't help but feel that he had missed something important—that he should say something. He was exhausted, though, and eventually the need for sleep won out.

* * *

Snow struck the ground at an attack velocity. Sheppard could feel the frost build on his stinging skin. Despite all of the warm clothing, he shivered. Trudging through packs of snow, he held his P-90 aloft, images of the fallen Wraith-Sheppard flashing through his mind. He could imagine Rodney similarly lying on the frozen landscape, blood seeping onto the white ground beneath him. Or worse, his unconscious form buried beneath growing layers of frost. He wished, he prayed, he hoped that it was not reality, that somewhere out there Rodney was alive, well, and safe. 

"Rodney?" he called desperately into the night. There was no reply from Rodney or otherwise. Sheppard glanced at the life signs detector once more, cursing at the blank screen.

Beside him, Radek had given up holding his weapon. Both of his arms were curled around his chest. His teeth chattered. "Rodney does this on purpose, I tell you. Making us wade through this mess."

"Sir."

Sheppard followed Rodriguez's motion. Cascades of snow assaulted his vision, but he could still make out the distant shape of a hill. Billowing smoke emanated from the summit, clashing against the raging storm. "I take it that's our mansion up there?"

"Onward and upward?" Radek adjusted his pack, his glazed eyes staring at the hill with trepidation.

Among the howling winds, Sheppard could hear a distant voice call, "Colonel!"

Sheppard swung left. Two dark figures approached, masked by the intense blizzard. As they drew close, Sheppard relaxed the grip on his weapon. "Major?"

"Yes, Sir," one of the figure's answered. Sheppard could now see a kid attached to the Marine's back.

"Who's that?"

"Long story, Sir."

"Teyla and Beckett?"

"They continued forward, Sir. Apparently there is some kind of mansion around here with…um…"

"With what, Major?"

"Skeletons, Sir. Or so I've been told."

Sheppard wasn't sure if Lorne was trying not to laugh or just not look foolish. "Skeletons?"

"Yes, Sir. I'm not the one making this stuff up."

"Relax. We've heard the same."

Lorne raised an eyebrow at this but didn't comment further.

The kid was big, maybe nine or ten. He stared at each of them with wide-blue eyes. He sniffled loudly as Lorne lowered him to the ground. "Who are you?" he demanded.

The kid moved toward Deschutes, hiding himself behind her. Deschutes grabbed onto his shoulder, coaxing him back. "Don't worry, they won't hurt you. These are our friends."

Lorne gazed at the kid warily, distrust shinning in his eyes. "His name's Rodney, Sir. We've been helping him find his sister Jeannie."

"Rodney?" Zelenka moved closer, examining the kid with scrutinizing eyes. Little Rodney backed away, clutching Lorne's side as if the kid were five years younger than he actually was.

"That's right. _Rodney_ and he's dressed as a vampire and enjoys Hershey's candy bars, Sir." Deschutes explained.

"Is that right?" Sheppard moved forward, brandishing his hand. "It's nice to meet you, _Rodney_. My name is John." The graveyard was creepy. Meeting himself…unnerving. But staring at this young version of McKay—for he could tell that was exactly who this was—well, it was chilling, alarming…disturbing.

The kid backed away, his cape swinging around him. "We need to find my sister. Now." He pouted, but still looked wary.

"Best we can tell, Sir, both our Rodney and his sister are in the mansion. We were just on our way to meet up there with Teyla and Beckett."

Sheppard forced his gaze away from little Rodney and back on Lorne. "We were on our way up there, ourselves."

Sheppard began walking again, knowing the others would follow with or without a command to do so. The snow crunched beneath his feet, frozen orange and red leaves left in his tracks. He could see little Rodney wipe his eyes before resting his head on Lorne's shoulder. His small eyes drifted closed. Sheppard watched all of this with a heavy heart, convinced that all of these figures were products of Rodney's mind. But why and how still eluded him.

**TBC **


	5. They all go creep!

_A/N: So sorry for the delay. To make up for it, this is a very long chapter. In fact, it is the end of the story! I hope you enjoy!_

* * *

They left the girl behind, though Teyla could see it killed Carson to do so. The mansion was much the same for a while. Moldy, cement walls, lit by torches and painted with the shadows of crawling creatures, continued as far as the eye could see. At last she came to another door. It was wooden, standing over four feet taller than herself. Carson did the honors of unlatching it, while Teyla aimed her P-90, prepared for whatever might lay beyond. 

Carson gasped at the sight. "Sweet mother…" he mumbled.

It wasn't just another room; it was another world. There were pastures of green opposed to dark layers of clouds. The smell of rain hung heavily in the air, and the humidity was great. The ice melted from her skin, and for the first time since their arrival, Teyla found herself sweating.

"Rodney?" she called as Beckett did the same.

There only answer was a clattering sound coming from the distance. The sound grew in intensity. Holding her P-90 aloft, she motioned for Carson to stay low. She didn't like the way her stomach tossed, her mind alerting her to the danger ahead.

Lightning flashed, illuminating white bones. Skeletons, hundreds of them, were lined up in neat rows. Some were on skeletal horses, others in hats, some carried muskets, and others swords. All were in Genii uniforms. It was an army of skeletons with red glowing spheres glaring from within each of their black eye sockets.

A skeleton that was both on a horse and wearing a hat, a Genii knife brandished, rode forward. His skull spun in circles before halting, facing the opposite direction. It turned slowly until it came to face her. "Leave here, now!" Its voice was as thunder. It was accentuated by another lightning bolt just inches from its feet.

"We are in search of a friend," Teyla explained, holding her rolling stomach at bay. "He is badly injured."

"Go now, or we kill you!"

Carson's hand shook as he kept his weapon level. He muttered something under his breath in a quiet whisper, in a language that Teyla did not recognize. Teyla turned his gaze from her teammate back to the army. A group of many against a group of two. If attacked, Teyla knew that she and Carson would not stand a chance.

"Please, our friend is badly injured. If you would just allow us to look for him…"

"Now!" the leader cried. His horse neighed, its forward legs kicking into the air. The skeletons charged forward, racing, screaming, red eyes gleaming.

Teyla fired into the center of the oncoming barrage. Bones flew into the air, skeletons screeched, but the band continued to charge. She could see more lines of skeletons taking their place, reaching as far back as the eye could see. She ran with Carson in tow, shooting even as she moved to close the large wooden door.

Bullets swept by her left and right. "Close it!" Teyla cried as she backed into the corridor, ignoring the searing pain from her own arm.

Carson wasted no time. He tried to shove the door closed just as the first wave of skeletons arrived, but obstacles of bone prevented it from shutting. He screamed as skeletal fingers latched onto his arm. Teyla smashed the wrist of the assailing hand, leaving Carson free to close the door. Together they were able to latch it.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Carson's face was scarlet, his breathing ragged. He held onto his hand as though afraid it was going to fall off.

"We should continue." Teyla patted his shoulder lightly, her own heart threatening to explode within her chest. On Athos, skeletons were often revered as the remains of the Ancestors, but here…All she could sense from them was evil.

Carson pushed himself away from the wall where skeletons beat against the wood. They could hear bullets hit the thick planks, and Teyla knew that they had little time before the army broke through and continued their attacks. "We must go now," she warned. Carson was already ahead of her.

Teyla did not wish to leave the mansion, but this end of the corridor only aimed toward the exit and there was no hope to be had in running toward the army. They ran side by side, hearing the clattering of bone on bone echo from not far off. Horses neighed and the army unleashed a wild battle cry. "You must ran faster!" she called to Carson, pushing him forward gently.

"Aye, I'm doing my best."

Clattering clattering clattering. The sounds kept coming, getting closer and closer by the second. They wouldn't make it. There was a good 500 meters of corridor left when she felt a bullet fly past her ear.

"Go!" The skeletons continued to cry. "Leave here! Go!"

Teyla leapt out into the cycling snow, closing her eyes in the intense storm. She raced down snow-packed steps. She slid, naturally, just catching herself on the icy rail. Thank the Ancestors for the gloves, though the cold still made her hands sting. She took the stairs more slowly, careful not to tumble to her death. Ahead of her, Carson did the same, all while muttering cries under his breath.

The clattering had stopped. At last, they reached the bottom, jumping onto the hill's summit. Beside her, Carson fell forward, hunched over his knees and tried to catch his breath. "There are many things I have come to expect from this damn galaxy," he muttered between heavily drawn breaths, "evil Genii skeletons was not one of them."

Teyla slumped to the ground clenching tightly to her left arm. Drops of red fell onto the white snow. She watched them with a worried fascination, the pain just now starting to hit her.

"Teyla?" Carson moved toward her with lightning speed, pulling out his med kit.

"I am fine. We need to get to Rodney."

"Aye, let me see what I can do first. It won't take but a moment."

Teyla gritted her teeth, watching the mansion door as though expecting skeletons to storm through at a given notice. She bit down tight on her lip as Carson applied antiseptic and wrapped the field bandage around her arm.

"It's just a graze," she heard him say. "We were damn lucky."

"What time is it?" Teyla watched as waves of snow covered the bloodstains. Her whole body stilled as she waited for his reply. What if it was too late?

"0015 hours." Carson's voice was solemn as though he had just pronounced Rodney dead. Maybe he just had. No…No, she would not give up on Rodney. Not yet.

"There is still time then."

"Teyla…"

"We will find a way in past the skeletons. If Rodney is in there, we'll find a way to get to him and…"

"Teyla…"

"We need more fire power. Perhaps there is another exit. A door we did not see?"

"Teyla!"

"Do not even try to talk me out of this, Dr. Beckett. You have never given up on us before and I know I'm asking a lot but we have to do this. Do you not agree?"

Carson grabbed hold of her shoulder, brushing a tear away from her refrozen face. "Lass, listen to me. Rodney is as much my friend as he is yours and I would run through hell for him if I thought it would make a difference, but you're injured and I'm a bad shot and there is a whole army in there waiting for us. We have half an hour before the poison runs through his system and kills him. If there is any hope of saving Rodney, it's going to come from getting help from the others. Let's head back to the stargate and see…"

"There is no time!"

"There wasn't any time three hours ago, but that didn't stop you. Getting help is going to be Rodney's only chance."

Teyla pounded her fist against the packed snow, licking away a mixture of salt and flakes from her chapped lips. She felt nauseous and cold, pained from her wound but more from the idea of losing her friend. "We should hurry."

"Aye." Carson helped lift her back to her feet, handing her the P-90 with a sad smile. Together they trudged through the snow in silence.

The falling flakes were floating in slower spurts, and the moon was once again shining through thin layers of clouds. In the light, Teyla could see multiple figures approaching from the base of the hill. She lifted her good hand in the air and Beckett stopped beside her.

"Who do you suppose they are?" There was a tremble in Carson's voice.

"I am uncertain, but I believe we are about to find out."

* * *

"Your fever runs high, Master." 

He felt hands run across his hair. He felt cool, refreshing sweat on his forehead. He was both fiery hot and icy cold at the same time. He shivered from both. His thoughts were blurred.

"Who are you?" He whispered the words, coughing as he spoke.

"Drink this, Master. You must become well."

The witch tipped a ceramic bowl to his lips. The steam brushed against his face. He was not sure whether it was a pleasurable sensation or not, the way it mixed with his cool droplets of sweat. He coughed harder this time, his chest spasming with the movement. He cried out from the unbearable pain.

"There is something within you, Master. It ails you. Please, you must fight it for all our sake."

Green, wiry hands wrapped themselves around his shoulder. Rodney's head fell back to the cold cement, the pain so great he almost wished he were dead. But he could see images, strange and unreal, of phantoms and of friends. Sheppard and Teyla were coming for him. They would save him. He just had to hold on. Hold on.

He coughed violently, finding comfort as the witch rubbed his back. "Be well, Master. Be well."

Rodney moaned softly, crying from the hurt that surrounded him and the fog that his mind just couldn't break free from. He trembled with each breath. His skin boiled and burned. He whimpered, falling back into unconsciousness.

He dreamed the strangest dreams. Of mansions and skeletons. Of Jeannie from that one terrible night. Teyla. Sheppard. Radek. He dreamed they were in battle—in trouble. And somehow he knew it was more than just a dream.

* * *

All Sheppard could think about as he made his way up the hill was the time. Rodney was made of sterner stuff then most people understood, but each second that passed by was one more that Rodney didn't have. Sheppard's stomach coiled and his heart raced. He glanced at the black band on his wrist and whispered a silent prayer, knowing he'd give up anything to have Rodney back safe and alive. 

"Looks like we have company, Sir." Major Lorne, a sleeping little-Rodney still on his back, motioned forward with his chin. Sheppard followed his gaze to see two distant shadows waiting on the snow-packed hill, just before the towering mansion.

"Hello?" Sheppard called, hoping it wasn't a Wraith or other fiendish foe.

"Colonel?" a woman's voice called back.

"Teyla?"

Radek muttered something Czech in a relieved voice. Sheppard wasn't sure what he said, but had to second the motion.

"Yes. Please, you must hurry, John."

"We'll be up in a moment."

Little-Rodney began stirring in the commotion, wiping the frost away from his eyes with his small hand. "What's happening?" he asked while yawning.

"We're almost there." Deschutes helped Rodney down from Lorne's back. She held onto his hand, leading him up the hill.

Sheppard lead the team ahead of them, trying not to glance at his watch. Until today, Halloween had been his favorite holiday.

It was hard enough walking on his leg, but trying to drag it up hill…that was torture. Lorne and Rodriguez supported most of his weight through the climb. Radek, meanwhile, talked about the absurdity of Halloween and how he would never dream of celebrating such a ridiculous holiday back home. No one offered any rebuttals.

Despite Sheppard's injury, they made it to the top of the hill faster than he could have hoped for. Teyla offered an arm for leverage as he took the last few steps from the slope onto the peak. His eyes stung from the smoke. His arms shivered from the cold.

"What's the situation?" he asked.

Lorne released Sheppard from his steadying grip, looking just as worried as the rest. It was amazing how Rodney had an effect on everyone, even the Marines. Lorne brushed the snow from his chest, passing Sheppard a comforting glance.

"It is not good, Colonel," Teyla began. Sheppard saw the bandage wrapped around her arm where blood was already seeping through. She saw his gaze, followed it, but did not comment. "I cannot explain how I know, but I believe that Rodney is in the mansion."

"That would fit with the intel we have," Lorne commented, hope glistening in his eyes. He had not given up hope and somehow Sheppard found comfort in this.

Carson stepped forward. There was no hope in his expression. "There's an army though. A whole bloody large army of skeletons in Genii clothing."

"How many are we talking?"

"Hundreds."

Sheppard looked to the mansion to Teyla and then to the doctor.

"In there?" Lorne asked for him.

"Aye. Chased out and nearly killed us in the process."

A new voice entered the fray, small and young. "What about my sister?" Little Rodney still held Deschutes' hand as he emerged from the side of the hill. "Did you see her?"

Teyla nodded, trying to don a reassuring smile. It wasn't fooling Sheppard, but it might fool the kid. Young Rodney breathed a sigh of relief. Carson coughed, his eyes downcast.

Apparently satisfied with this answer, Rodney leapt toward the mansion, stopped by Deschutes' hand.

"No," she cried a little too loudly.

Rodney turned to face her with betrayed eyes. "My sister!"

"Wait. Just wait." Her voice was calmer this time, though there was a pain that flashed behind her eyes.

"We'll have to hurry." Though Rodney made no more moves to run.

"So let me get this straight," Sheppard asked once it was clear Rodney was satisfied to stay still, "we have about half an hour to get in there, find Rodney and then give him the antidote the villagers gave us. Meanwhile, to do so, we have to fight a skeleton army."

Teyla nodded, holding her P-90 tight to her chest with her good arm. "That is a fitting description of the situation."

"Okay, people, if anyone has a plan to even the odds, now's the time to spill it."

Carson grabbed for his pack, leaning down to examine Sheppard's injury. "We can start by wrapping up that leg a bit better. I don't suppose I want to know what happened?"

"No, you really don't." Sheppard cringed as Carson worked.

"Is there another way in to the mansion?" Lorne glanced up at the house, taking in the scene as any decent Marine would. Beside him, Rodriguez was doing the same.

"It is possible, but there is only one set of stairs and they lead only to one door," Teyla answered.

When no one offered any other suggestion, Sheppard grabbed his weapon. "Okay. I can't order any of you to come in there with me. If you'd prefer to stay out here…"

"Please, do not insult us!" It was Radek who interrupted, looking affronted but also terrified.

"He's right, Sir," Rodriguez answered, "You didn't bring us just so we could back down from a fight."

Lorne checked his weapon before speaking. "You don't even have to ask where I stand, Sir. You should know better."

Seeing the idea was unanimous all around, Sheppard nodded, proud to work with these people. He wondered what Rodney would think if he knew what others were willing to do to save his life. Fighting an army of skeletons, it had to amaze even Rodney's ego. "Good. We don't have much time and Rodney's counting on us. Let's move out."

A howl echoed through the night as they made their way up the frozen steps.

* * *

She heard the strangers run, the clattering of bones, and the neighing of the horses. Jeannie huddled against the wall drowning out the sounds with her own sobs. When all was once again quiet, she couldn't move. She was so cold and her leg hurt and why was Mer taking so long to get to her? Why couldn't she have a responsible brother that cared? 

Time passed in arbitrary figures marked by notches on the floor she engraved every time she became nervous. She shivered and she cried and she hurt.

"Jeannie!"

She had imagined the voice so many times she wasn't sure she had actually heard it until she heard the footsteps as well and felt him hold her. "You're alive. Oh thank God, you're alive. I'm sorry, Jeannie. I'm so sorry."

Rodney held her tight. Tears streamed from his face. Jeannie said nothing, but she was crying as well. Mer was back. He had come for her.

Mer released her, looking toward the other end of the room. Through the cloud of tears, Jeannie could see those who had comforted her earlier along with more strangers. She didn't back away because Mer was looking at them with trust, and Mer never trusted anyone.

"Go," Mer whispered. "Go. We'll be okay until you get back."

The woman with the ponytail nodded. "We will be back as soon as we can." She had spoken similar words the last time Jeannie had seen her.

Jeannie grabbed onto her brother's shirt. It was one thing for the strangers to leave but… "Don't leave me, Mer. Please."

"I won't, Jeannie. Don't worry. I'm here and I won't leave you."

Mer took his seat next to her even as the strangers left. He held his arm around her, holding her as she cried.

"Do you think mom and dad are still arguing? Maybe they're looking for us."

"Maybe, Jeannie. Maybe. Just…Just rest, okay. We'll be home soon and it'll all be okay. Just rest."

* * *

Radek was not sure what to make of young Rodney and his sister. This world had so many elements from Rodney's mind and that in itself made it terrifying, but that little Rodney was here…Was it a memory from some long time past, changed only by the climate of this world? Radek was not sure he wanted, or even should, know the answer to that. 

Radek watched as the kid held his sister tight, then walked away with the others. He stood with Carson in the middle. Rodriguez and Deschutes covered their backs while Sheppard and Teyla took the front. The mansion seemed more like a dreary castle, spreading on for miles. Water dripped from the ceiling, splattering on the cement in a methodical rhythm in time with the dancing flames of the torches.

He held his weapon close, though he wondered why he bothered. Rodney's time was quickly running out, probably had some time ago based on the knife wound alone, and yet Radek believed enough in miracles that he would face even a horde of rampaging skeletons to save his friend. Rodney would owe him big time once they got out of this.

He heard nothing but knew the others had when Sheppard raised his hand to steady the group behind him. Following the hand motions, Radek pressed himself against the nearest wall while Teyla and Sheppard kept everyone covered.

_Clatter. Clatter. Clatter._ Radek's body stilled, though his breathing was harsh. _Clatter. Clatter. Neigh._ Hooves hit cement and the skeletons appeared, dressed in Genii uniforms.

"You were told to go!" a skeleton with fiery red eyes bellowed.

"We can't do that. Not until you give us back our friend." Sheppard's voice was falsely calm.

"Go or we will destroy you!"

The horse launched forward. Masses of skeletons rushed behind. Though the corridor was no more than ten men wide, there were dozens of skeletons in a line, as though they traveled through the walls.

Fueled by nothing but hope and the presence of his comrades, Radek joined in the firefight, watching as bones scattered into the air with each shot. Heads rolled onto the ground, their red eyes growing dim. But there were hundreds more of the skeletons alive, coming forward, and far too close.

No one ran. It took fighting every fiber in his being, but Radek didn't either. He reloaded his 9-mil, coughing as smoke and debris littered the crowded corridor.

"Go!" The skeletons cried again. "Go now!"

A second only had passed since the rush but it seemed an eternity. The skeletons arrived. A sword sliced through Deschutes' gut and she fell to the ground in surprise, blood dripping her from her mouth. The same skeleton raised its sword high before Radek. He was able to shoot it, but another took its place.

"No!" a voice cried louder than all the other noise. "No, you won't hurt them!"

The skeletons stopped mid-fight. The shootings ceased.

"Rodney?" Radek, Teyla, and Sheppard all whispered the name simultaneously.

"Rodney?" Sheppard stared up toward the ceiling, circling around. "Is that you, buddy? Where are you?"

Silence.

"Rodney, it is Teyla. Please, we need to know where you are."

A heavy wind blew through the corridor turning the bones to dust. "Help me," a voice seemed to cry.

The team bolted forward, leaving behind the skeletal remains though they understood little of what was happening. All Radek knew was that they had heard Rodney's voice and they must find him. "Please Rodney, you must help us find you!" His call was also met with silence.

Beyond the door were a land of green pastures and a violent thunderstorm. Radek had long since stopped trying to understand this world, and so instead concentrated on running. It was as difficult to see in the pouring rain as it was to see in the roaring blizzard.

"There! There is a door!" Teyla raced forward, opening the door that lay in the middle of the open pasture and seemingly led to nowhere.

Sniffly and shivering, the group waited as Teyla and Sheppard flung the door open and examined the new location. Radek could see it was a large room covered in stone and chains. A black cauldron sat in the middle, where just meters away, a black and green figure hovered over a still form. Rodney…

"No!" The figure—a woman--yelled. "You should not have gotten here."

Sheppard aimed his weapon at her chest. "We'll be taking him home now."

The woman swun around. She was every cliché Radek had heard about Witches. She had the wart and the long nose. She even had the pointy hat and green skin. "No, no! You mustn't take him. If you do, all will be lost!" Her voice was rough and cracked.

Rodney didn't move. His face was white. His head lay on a stone ground, supported by his left arm.

Ignoring the woman, Carson ran to Rodney's side, injecting something within his arm and then taking some vitals. The green-faced woman did not try and stop him.

"That will save his life?" As Radek drew closer, he could see her eyes grow large. "You can save him?"

"Aye. I hope so." Carson's voice was dim, and Radek could tell that Rodney's fight was far from over. "Though how he's still alive…"

"I helped his wound. I have my ways. But the poison…I could not…You can save him?"

"Who are you?" Teyla asked. She knelt by Rodney's other side assisting Carson.

She straightened her back, a proud air emanating from around her. "I am the first that he created and as such I am his second and the sole keeper of knowledge. I am known now as Witch."

"We need to get him out of here." Carson pushed his equipment away, motioning for Radek to help him with Rodney so the others that were better with weapons could cover them.

Gathering his courage, Radek moved forward, but the witch stepped before him, her giant wart and elongated nose far too close to his face. "No. I cannot let you take him."

"If you wish him to live, you must." Carson left no room for argument in his voice, but the witch did not seem to understand.

"He may have helped you get past the skeletons, but he cannot leave here. Don't you understand?"

"His mind creates you?" Radek looked at her, knowing it was true.

"Yes. That is why he is the Master. He creates all and thus is all!"

"If he goes, then you will cease to exist."

"The machine was created years ago to create and with each creation we are alive again. You would murder hundreds to keep him!" The witch's hat fell from her head, floating slowly to the floor. "And you will not even allow us to fulfill our purpose first!"

"It's not that simple." Carson walked over to the witch, pain reflected in his eyes. "You've done a good job taking care of the inner damage. More than any medicine I know could have done. But he is still badly injured and he needs care. If you keep him here, he will be dead within days and you will cease to exist anyway."

Radek brushed past the witch. Between Teyla and himself they lifted Rodney off the ground. He was heavy and it would be a long trek through the snow.

"Master has not yet overcome his demons. Take him now and the journey was for naught!"

"Rodney does not have time for this," Radek answered. With Teyla's help, he began the exit.

"Many millennia have passed," he heard the witch say, "since one came and created."

If she said anything else, he did not hear it. There was some part of him that felt terrible for her loss, but another part that hated this world and all he had seen on it—every bit some horror in Rodney's mind. All Radek wanted was to go home and he knew that was what Rodney wanted as well, so this was what he concentrated on doing.

They walked with Rodney through green pastures. The rain had stopped falling and all that remained was slippery mud. Not easy to traverse on its own right, much less while half-carrying another.

When they reached the passageway, they had to be careful not to trip on Deschutes' blood. He looked only long enough to see that her body was not there. He grieved for the loss of yet one more Marine, but continued forward with the mystery unsolved.

They passed the room where the children sat. They had promised to come back for them, but Radek now understood that their existence was tied to this world. He could not bring them back, the witch had all but told him that much. No, it was best to let them stay there in each other's company until the end—until they ceased to be. Radek walked on.

The blizzard was over when they made their way out of the mansion, but he was still drenched and the water froze to his skin. Rodney did not stir the entire time. No one—nothing—accosted them nor tried to stop them. It was as though the frightening world had suddenly been commanded to stand still.

"Colonel!" Dr. Grimes was walking toward them as they arrived at the gate. She was supported by a man with…

Radek was sure his heart stopped. He stared at the bullet hole and the blood on the once familiar face. Sickened, he leaned against the DHD with the side that was not half-carrying Rodney. Sheppard, Beckett, and Teyla stopped dead, all of them looked green.

"Good seeing you again, too, guys." Gaul transferred support of Grimes to Rodriguez, who tried to accept the change without touching the zombie. The Marine had no idea just how wrong this really was.

Grimes said thanks to Gaul who then wandered back toward the graveyard. A group of skeletons approached with a stretcher between them. Deschutes lay, wrapped in a sheet but for her head. She was white, but Radek did not think that she looked dead.

"You will take her back as well?" The skeleton asked.

Carson raced up to her, already digging into his bag. "I don't understand. I saw her fall. With a wound like that there is no way she could still be…"

A skeleton, with blue sphere-eyes instead of red, nodded his skull. "Physical wounds are easier to mend than mental ones. The Witch was able to help her some with her magic, but you must do the rest."

The skeletons left before anyone could respond, lost in a cloud of dust.

Sheppard dialed the DHD while the rag tag crew waited in silence. Taking one last look at this dark world, Radek helped carry Rodney home. In their wake, the Halloween world was transformed into a barren land.

* * *

_There wasn't any arguing when Rodney returned to his house minus his sister. He banged loudly on the door before entering. "Mom! Dad!" It was early morning now and Halloween was officially over, but Rodney was still lost in his nightmare. _

_"Meredith?" His mother's voice broke. She sat at a table with a cup of hot chocolate. Dad was on the other end and a policeman was between them. "Oh thank God, Rodney!" She ran to him, cradling him within her arms. "I was so worried." _

_Rodney trembled in her arms, sobbing softly. _

_"Where is Jeannie?" his father asked, placing his warm hand on Rodney's shoulder. _

_"We have to help her! She fell on the ice and hurt herself…bad. I got lost getting back and…" _

_"Okay, Meredith, just show us where to go." _

_  
Rodney had never ridden in a police car before, and although his thoughts were on finding his sister, he found it entertaining. The storm had died down, but driving on the packed snow and ice wasn't easy. Even a patrol car had to go slow. Rodney listened to the sound of chains clatter with each turn of the tires. He held tight to his mother's chest. _

_"I'm so sorry. We didn't mean to be gone so long and…" _

_"We can talk more about it later. Just relax and think about where Jeannie might be." _

_He brought them to the playground, where Jeannie was huddled beneath a slide. She was unconscious, white, and there was more blood than Rodney remembered from where the ice has slit her leg. _

_"Jeannie!" He raced up to her, desperate to see that she was still alive. She didn't stir. His parents came beside him, weeping as the policeman offered her care. _

_"She's still alive," the officer assured them. _

_The ambulance met them at the location. Rodney could do nothing but wait and hope. They arrived at the hospital. Rodney stayed by her side, watching as she slept. She had been out in the cold too long and was ill, but he was told the doctor's were optimistic. Rodney did feel all that well himself, but he was far too worried about her to care. _

_At some point, Jeannie stirred. Rodney caressed her hair, careful of her ratted curls. "I'm sorry, Jeannie. I'm sorry." His mom told him that there would be time for apologies later, but Rodney couldn't help it. He had faced the night even though it was filled with frighteningly shaped trees and freezing cold. He had been lost while not sure if he was safe, and all to save the sister he had nearly killed. "I'm sorry," seemed the only thing he could say. _

_Jeannie came home for the hospital in good spirits some days later. "You can have all the candy," he told her when she came to sort it out. "I don't want any." He had always despised Halloween, it was true, but never more so than that year. He swore he would have nothing to do with the holiday again. _

Rodney awoke from his dream—memory—immediately recognizing the infirmary. An IV stood beside him. Teyla—whose arm was in a sling—Radek, and some Marine Rodney vaguely recognized, all sat together, each of them asleep. Sheppard, Ronon, and some woman who Rodney didn't really know occupied three other beds. He could see their stats well enough, though, and could see that they were all right. Except maybe the Marine.

Which was better than he could say for himself. His head ached, his stomach roiled, and he was linked up to every machine possible. Images of witches and skeletons raced through his head, but most of all he couldn't stop thinking about Jeannie. He had drowned out that memory so long ago. Why did it always have to resurface on this awful holiday?

Was it even Halloween anymore?

A blonde figure gazed at him from across the room. She jumped to her feet with a smile. "You're awake?" It was Cindy, his favorite nurse. He smiled back at her, watching as she left to call Dr. Beckett. She swept back into the room, stopping by his bedside. "You've been through quite the ordeal."

Rodney wasn't sure how to respond to that so he didn't bother trying.

"How are you feeling?" Carson approached with the dreaded light in tow. He pulled the stethoscope from around his neck and got to work, though there was weariness in his eyes.

"What happened?"

"Long story. Maybe when you're feeling a little better and everyone else is awake to fill in the details."

Rodney's head swam with confusion, but was clouded enough with drugs that he didn't argue.

"For when you are feeling better, the Athosian kids brought you a present." Cindy held up a pumpkin-shaped bag. "They felt bad that you were injured on Halloween and all chipped into the pot."

Rodney looked down into the bag where a handful of chocolate bars lay. Rodney groaned, but did not push the candy away. So the Athosian kids had actually thought of him? That was actually sort of sweet. Chocolate to boot. That stuff was golden barter in Atlantis. The problem with Pegasus was you never had as much chocolate as you wanted.

"Thanks," he mumbled. After all, it would be a waste to let the candy go to waste just to spite a holiday, right?

"Everyone else okay?"

Carson nodded, patting Rodney's shoulder as he did so. "Aye. They'll all be fine. We walked through hell, Rodney, to get to you, but they all survived. I'm a little worried about Deschutes but…well…apparently when it comes to dealing with your mind, miracles happen."

"Come again?"

"I said hell didn't I? Imagine a world made entirely of your thoughts, Rodney."

Rodney thought he'd rather not. It was going to be one of _those_ mission debriefings, wasn't it? The kind that was more confusing when one left the briefing room than when they started.

"Rest now, Rodney. You're safe now and that's what matters."

Rodney smiled at that. Safe. Yes, he definitely felt safe and something about that added more comfort than anything else could. Although the warmth of the infirmary was nice as well. Was it his imagination or was it even a few degrees warmer then they normally kept the place?

Rodney drifted to sleep moments later. He saw Jeannie again, but this time it was a pleasant dream of a warm summer's day.

**FIN**


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